


Forbidden Game

by masserect



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:39:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masserect/pseuds/masserect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett Hawke has an unusual relationship with his sister Bethany. Written in response to a <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/">DA kink meme</a> request for basically "anything Hawke/Bethany".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forbidden Game

She comes into his room at night, after the others have fallen asleep. The door is unlocked; he knows to expect her, because she called him _Garrett_ this evening, and he called her _Bethany_ in return, and they shared a smile. It's not perfect, but then what is?

She arrives wrapped in a sleeping gown, padding silently on bare feet. The gown is linen, fine enough for simple folk, but not as sheer or form-hugging as a noblewoman's silk slip, and she wears nothing underneath but a drop of the expensive perfume she bought from a Denerim trader last fall. Her lips are red and inviting, painted just for the occasion, and her thick, wavy hair brushes over her shoulders as she lets the gown fall open and slip from her shoulders. The moonlight through his window makes her skin glow pale in stark contrast with her hair, as though she were a ghost, of a Fade apparition come to visit; a beautiful spirit, with the strength of youth and a grown woman's lush form.

She feels more solid than that when she pulls herself into bed, kneeling by his side, unashamed by her nakedness. She runs a hand through her hair, lets it slide down over her breasts - soft and generous, with dark areolae and prominent nipples, hard from the chill night air, and perhaps more.

"I've been thinking about you," she murmurs, smiling down at him, and he takes her hand, guides it to his groin and wraps her fingers around his erection through the thin wool blanket. Bethany's eyes widen and sparkle as she slowly strokes him, unprompted, and tightens her fingers around his shaft.

"Were you thinking about me, too?"

He says: "Yes." It's the truth, and nothing more is needed. Any noise is dangerous when they play this forbidden game; silence not only golden, but necessary.

But they cannot communicate entirely without words, and he says: "Suck me." Quiet and succinct.

The smile remains as she begins to pull the blanket off him; he wears nothing underneath. Right up until she parts her lips to take him in her mouth, opening in a wide, red O as she engulfs his cock and he can't hold back a low groan as she runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft, hot, wet and strong.

She pulls back just long enough to smile again - he feels her lips tighten even before she does it - and dives back down, taking nearly half his prick in her mouth before she begins to pull back; stops as she feels the crown of his glans against the insides of her lips and begins sliding down again.

He watches for a while, raised on his elbows, as she kneels by his side, head bowed over his erection, her dark, glittering eyes always turned up to meet his gaze, but he can not let it continue for long without returning the favour and soon orders her to turn around.

Bethany obeys, gracefully swinging one leg over him and comes to a stop on all fours, facing down with her hips over his head, her own head over his groin, her breasts brushing against his stomach and hips as she moves, and he grasps her firmly curved buttocks and pulls her down to draw in her womanly scent before raising his head to taste her.

Her sex glistens in the moonlight, wet even before his tongue can caress her; she shudders delightfully at the first touch, and a small drop of slick falls from her flushed lips to land on his cheek; he grins and dives in, running his tongue through her slit, from top to bottom.

Bethany swallows around his cock, her tongue twitching, and she begins to move faster, her cheeks hollowing as she begins to suck in earnest. All to spur him on.

He needs no such prompting and thrusts his tongue into her as far as he can, feels her twitch and tighten; flicks down across her clit and is rewarded with a soft noise, a barely audible, high-pitched squeal. He does it again, and she lowers her head further, taking almost his entire length into her mouth, and he feels his balls tighten as the head of his cock meets the back of her throat. She pulls back, leaving his shaft glistening with saliva and precome, just long enough to tell him, "More!" a hoarse whisper, and she rocks back against his tongue even as she sinks down once more, lips tightly sealed around his erection.

She was thinking about him, and he was thinking about her. Both of them are eager and bursting with pent-up arousal, and neither of them can last long. Bethany has him at a disadvantage, and she purrs happily when he groans and tightens his grip on her ass, urging him on with lips and tongue, and swallows happily as he twitches and spurts in her mouth, biting his lip to keep himself from moaning out loud.

It's over much too fast, and she pulls back from his softening prick, looking back with a smug little grin on her face, as if to say, _I win_.

He smacks her ass, just once, but hard - the sound sharp and startling in the silent night. Oh, he would spank her properly if he dared; she _has_ been a bad girl, sweet little Beth with her lips wrapped around her brother's cock - but he can't.

More's the pity, for Bethany's only reaction to the slap is to moan throatily and arch her back as she rides his tongue, grinds herself against his lips and chin.

"More," she repeats, and reaches for a familiar jar on the bedside table; he takes it from her hand and dips the fingers of his right hand, pulls them back covered in oil and begins to smear it on her skin, circling slowly in towards her anus; feels her twitch under his fingers as he comes closer. She moans again, grinds herself harder against his mouth, and he reaches up with his left hand to grab hold of her hair, pulls her down towards his cock again, and though his tongue never stops dancing over her dripping sex, the message is clear: _keep going_. She complies silently, wrapping her painted lips around his semi-hard prick once more, leaving faint red streaks on his skin. It's easier for her like this, lets her take him all inside, and when he feels her chin pressing against his lower abdomen, her upper lip and nose against his balls, he wishes he could come again right now, just fill her mouth while she's still able to take all of him inside, but it's not possible; all he feels is a slight stiffening, as though his body informs him that it's not ready yet, but soon will be.

He presses a slippery, oiled finger against Bethany's ass, and she tightens up instinctively; he pushes harder and begins to pry her open, slowly sinking to the first knuckle, then the second - easier now that he's past the initial resistance, and she thrusts back against him, just a tiny motion that serves not to fit his finger deeper inside her body, but simply to tell him she desires more.

He drips more oil in the cleft of her ass and pulls back a bit, positioning a second finger, and his cock begins to stiffen as he forces the two digits inside her resisting opening, again stopping at the second knuckle before he begins to pull back. More oil, and he twists his hand, getting her used to the girth of his fingers, preparing her for more. She twitches around him, and he feels her moistening below, growing wetter still, and then she gags softly as his cock begins to grow once more; unable to fit it fully in her mouth when he is fully erect. She pulls back, panting; swallows and dives back down, intensifying her efforts, but this time, he has her right where he wants her. A few more thrusts of his fingers, a few more nudges of his tongue against her clit, and Bethany will surrender to him.

It can't come soon enough - _she_ can't come soon enough - and he seals his lips around her clit and sucks greedily at the sensitive bud. His efforts are rewarded with a gasp - a quick breath of air drawn in around his cock - and a shiver from the girl over him; he lashes her with his tongue, unyielding, until she trembles like a bowstring. Finally she pops her mouth off him and collapses, her hands clawing at his thighs, her back arching as she rides out her first orgasm in impressive silence, silence that makes the sound of her heavy breathing seem unnaturally loud.

She lies still for a few moments, trembling while he slowly caresses her with his tongue, but eventually she rises once more on hands and knees, then rises on her knees and pulls away from his lips and tongue, looks down at him with half-lidded eyes and smiles.

"Now," she whispers, and rocks slowly back and forth, pushing back against his fingers, then pulling away again, "take me on my back. I want to see you."

And he wants to see her.

Still a little dazed, a little clumsy, she turns around and he helps her lie down, trading places with her and kneeling between her long, smooth legs. She raises them slowly, rests her ankles on his shoulders, and he rubs more oil on his cock before positioning it against her puckered opening and begins to push.

In an instant, Bethany's hands are on his hips, her nails digging into his skin as she pulls him towards her, and he grunts as he feels the head of his cock overcome her body's resistance and pop inside.

"Yes," Bethany breathes, her eyes wide, pupils dilated with arousal, "just so."

He leans down on her breasts, filling his palms with the soft mounds and squeezing as he begins to thrust, sliding the tip of his cock back and forth through the tight ring of muscles, feeling her twitching in response, tightening around his girth. She winces a little at first, stretched so suddenly, so wide, but the expression soon fades into one of bliss as he continues to push into her, continues to play with her breasts. Bethany's sex may be sensitive, but her breasts are less so and he knows he can be rough with her here, dig his fingers in and leave bruises, pinch her nipples and roll them between his fingers, and that is just what he does; kneads her supple flesh in his large, rough hands, and Bethany shivers underneath him, her eyes slowly closing, long dark lashes fluttering.

"Fuck me," she begs, even though he is fucking her already, driving his cock through that tight little ass, but he understands and lengthens his strokes, deepening them until he hilts himself inside her, presses his hips against her thighs, until each thrust presses his lower abdomen against her wet, yearning sex.

Bethany tightens her grip on him, thrusts back as well as she is able, and the bed groans under them; he presses her down hard into the mattress and shakes his head, _No_ , they can't be too noisy. She chews her lips and winces, and he takes pity on her; takes one hand off her breasts and brings it down between her legs, fingers gliding easily on her glistening skin. She arches her back, loses her grip on his hips and lets her hands fall, clutching at the sheet instead as he finds his rhythm, fucking her with shallow strokes while his fingers work on her cunt, sliding between her lips, flicking across her clit, never entering her, but circling her entrance, teasing it.

It doesn't take her long to peak for the second time, and it's better this time - for him as well as her, seeing her face as she comes, her chest heaving, her arms trembling as she tries to hold on to the bed; feeling her muscles clamping down on his shaft. Better, and longer, kindled as it is by his cock and fingers, and it leaves her limp and sweating, dazed and satisfied, staring up at him with eyes that speak of gratitude more eloquently than words ever could.

It's not the tightness, not the motions of her lush breasts that pushes him over the edge, but that look she gives him, so distant and yet intense, so full of everything that makes her _his_ Bethany, and he stares into those dark eyes as his own body goes rigid and he fills her with spurt after spurt of his come before he collapses on top of her, and they remain lying there as the sweat cools on their bodies, limbs intertwined, his cock slowly softening inside her.

  
Some time later, they sit together on the edge of the bed, somewhat cleaner, washed with soap and water he brought just for this occasion; Bethany's lips no longer crimson, but back to their natural pink, and he's not sure which he prefers - variation, perhaps.

They don't speak for a long time, nor do they move; just sit there staring out through the window at the moon outside, slowly sinking towards the horizon.

"Morning comes," she says after several minutes.

He says nothing; there is no need. Instead he reaches down between her thighs and strokes her gently, and she shudders though his finger never slipping past her outer lips.

"One day you will let me pluck this flower," he says, and she looks at him silently with those deep, dark eyes.

"Perhaps," she says, after a while. "Kiss me tonight?"

He hesitates - it seems, somehow, more intimate still than what has just transpired between them, more _wrong_ , but she is warm under his finger and still just a little bit wet and he desires more of her this night.

Before he answers, he raises his hand and licks that finger clean, savours the last of her nectar before he nods. "Tonight," he agrees, and their lips meet, their tongues dance; he tastes of her, and she tastes of him, and that is simply a fact, not a hindrance. His arms wrap tightly around her waist, his hands stroke her back and shoulders and she responds in kind, her smaller, softer hands playing on his skin, until they finally part.

"Then I will be going," she says, and he imagines she might be reluctant, but there is no hint of it in her voice or demeanour. Just a small smile as she bends to pick up her gown and stands up, draping the garment over herself to conceal her nudity.

"Good night," he says, smiling back, and can not resist adding, "sweet sister."

Her smile widens, seems secretive, and she leaves as silently as she came.

As the door closes, he sits down on the bed again, where her warmth and scent lingers; pulls his legs up and lies on his side, avoiding the wet spot in the middle.

This isn't perfect - he knows; they both know that.

It's not perfect, but then again, what is?

The next time, he will visit her room.

Already, he longs for tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> The subject matter is actually rather squicky for me, but at the time of writing, these characters were basically empty shells, so meh.
> 
> ...which begs the question why I'm writing about them at all, I guess. Then again, I'm pretty sure the answer is "because the prompt was there".


End file.
